


getting heavy with the devil

by theartificialvixen



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Blasphemy, Church Sex, F/M, Priest Kink, Religious Conflict
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 06:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15237738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theartificialvixen/pseuds/theartificialvixen
Summary: “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. These thoughts, are they sexual in nature? Do they invade your body and your mind?”“Yes, they are sexual in nature. The devil has filled my body with wicked desires towards a man of God.”CatholicSchoolgirl!Violet/Priest!Brian





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the dirtiest thing I've ever written, and is probably my favourite.
> 
> Violet is underage, she's 17, just a heads up.

Violet had always been ordinary as a child. Average looks, average grades. She was always _just_ Violet. It wasn’t until 17 that Violet really blossomed into a vibrant flower. Curves appeared in all the right places, features that were once awkward had been grow into. Hair that had been a nuisance due to its length had suddenly became her signature. Puberty had treated her well, her confidence grew, and she was no longer just. She was Violet Chachki. 

Along with her confidence, her penchant for bending, but not outright breaking rules also grew. Her red and black plaid skirt no longer fell below her knees, instead the fabric grazed above them, causing the nuns to tut  
but never outright punish her. Her face was natural to the untrained eye, but anyone looking closer would notice the artificial colour on her lips, the  
subtle darkening around her eyes. 

Her mother was a God-fearing woman, every meal left uneaten until prayers were said, they went to church twice a week, and crucifixes adorned every wall. Violet had been in an all-girls Catholic school since she could remember and she had never pictured her life without religion in it. Until now. It was gradual, her loss of religion, it creeped at her silently, like the snake in the Garden of Eden. Things that had been drilled into her no longer felt relevant, prayers felt like ash in her mouth as she repeated them with no feeling. She had mentioned it once, the look of horror on Sister Michelle’s face was warning enough that she was not to think such things again, instead she was sent to Father Brian, the school’s pastor where she would confess her sins. With hair the colour of dusky sand and a jaw that could have been carved by Michelangelo himself, Father Brian was lusted over by many of the students at the school, though it was never talked about.  


The first time Violet met Father Brian, a warmth spread between her legs, a feeling she was unaccustomed to. The feeling returned as lay in bed at night, imagining his face, his smooth, deep voice whispering in her ear. It was purely on instinct, the way her hand found its way beneath the covers, fingers examining parts she had never touched before. It was new and exciting, the feeling of touching herself. She didn’t know what she was doing, it felt wrong and impure, but it felt right, and she felt cold as she stopped, the feeling of dirtiness washing over her. She had googled it, a thrill rushing through her as she clicked link after link, like Alice, she had fell down the rabbit hole. 

The night after, there was no hesitation or guilt as she explored herself more intimately, her senses exploding with every touch of her hand. She lusted after Father Brian, sometimes she questioned if he lusted after her too, the way his eyes would quickly roam over her body as she stood next to the other girls. She had mentioned it to one of the other girls in her class, Katya, how attractive the pastor was. She was met with a finger to the lips as the other girl gazed at a blonde called Trixie who stood in front of her. Maybe it _was_ just her.

Violet awoke at the sound of her alarm, rubbing her eyes sleepily as she hit the snooze button. She stretched out, stiff muscles now awakening from their rigid positioning. She moved to the edge of the bed, slipping her feet into the slippers that sat there, before moving to the bathroom. She was excited to go to school today, the apathy she normally felt replaced with anticipation. Father Brian would be taking over her class for the week, due to one of the nuns falling ill. She examined her face in the mirror, her eyes critical as they looked over every angle. She turned the shower on, sighing in bliss as the hot water hit her skin. After brushing her teeth and applying her makeup, Violet moved to her wardrobe, grabbing the school uniform that hung crisply on its hanger. She pulled the skirt up her thighs, pulling it up slightly higher over her hips before rolling black, knee high socks over her legs. She put on the rest of the uniform, pulling half of her long, black hair back before securing it with a red ribbon and pulling some tendrils forward to frame her face. She sprayed some perfume over her body before grabbing a waffle and making her way to the school. 

Violet walked into the class, smiling at her fellow classmates before sitting at the front, ignoring the plethora of voices behind her. Violet wasn’t an introvert per se, but she preferred her own company compared to the company of others. It wasn’t that she disliked people; she could make forced pleasantries if she needed to, but she never went out of her way to make conversation with people. The voices stopped as the sharp bell rang out and Father Brian strode into the class. The girls stood up, reciting the Morning Prayer and Violet couldn’t help herself as she looked at the man stood in front of her. To her surprise, he was looking at her too, his face showing no emotion. The lesson was uneventful and Violet found her mind wandering as she looked down at the assignment in front of her. 

“Sir, I need help on this question,” she said, raising her hand. Father Brian nodded before walking over to her. She pointed at the question on the paper, feigning ignorance. 

“Okay, so it’s asking you to define in your own words what a sin is, and give examples. What do you need help with?” he asked, his face confused.

“It’s really the “own words” that I’m struggling with, I can’t put my thoughts onto paper,” she replied, biting her lip and furrowing her brow in mock annoyance.

“Well what is a sin?” 

“Hmm something that’s immoral in the eyes of God.”

“Good, but in your own words, not a dictionary definition.”

“Um, an act that gives you pleasure but goes against the word of the Lord?” 

He nodded. “Exactly, give me an example.” 

Violet pretended to think, tapping her nails against the desk.

“Masturbation?” she asked, her voice seductive as she gazed through her lashes at the man in front of her. 

Father Brian cleared his throat, his eyes widening slightly as his fingers fumbled over his collar, loosening it. “We-well, yes, that, would be-that would be one example. Anything else I can help you with?”

Violet smiled. “No thank you Father, you’ve been _very_ helpful,” she replied, licking her lips a little. He cleared his throat again before nodding and walking back to his desk. Violet took note of the way his fingers gripped at his pen tightly, his knuckles whitening.

    ————————————————————————————–

Father Brian was a good man. He followed the Bible to the letter, his only aim in life to serve God. He didn’t swear or drink or sin. Until now. It plagued him at night, images of Violet and her plush mouth wrapped around him in the confession booth, her lithe body writhing beneath him on the church altar. He knew it was wrong, to have such thoughts about his student, his _underage_ student at that. But she was a child of Lilith, the embodiment of seduction, sent to tempt him and cause destruction to the once secure foundation of his faith. He clutched at his rosary whenever Violet floated past him, to remind himself what his calling was. He asked, no, he begged God to grant him self-control as he watched Violet bend down to pick up a pen, her shirt falling open slightly, that peek of lace so enticing. 

“Masturbation?” she had practically purred at him, her voice low and silky. It had taken every ounce of self-control to not take her right then and there, the presence of other students be damned. It was consuming, this lust for her, something he hadn’t felt since he was a teen and he questioned what endgame God had in mind for him. 

“Violet, please stay behind after the lesson,” he said, swallowing as her face brightened. She was sat on the table, her legs dangling, her feet barely touching the floor. She shifted as the last student left the class, her skirt riding up, the pale skin of her thigh now on view. “I would suggest you fix your uniform.” 

She had glanced down, a slight blush forming as she pulled the fabric over her legs. He cursed himself for a moment as her fair skin disappeared under the red and black plaid. He closed the door, keeping people out or keeping them in, he didn’t know. 

“What did you need to see me about Father?” she asked, her voice taking on a flirtatious edge. He didn’t know whether she did it purposely, the idea that she could make him question everything unwittingly was more frightening than he would admit. 

“After today’s lesson on sin, I believe you would benefit from a session in the confessional booth,” he said. 

“Thank you Father for the kind offer, but I’m okay,” she replied looking down. He moved close to her, every moral voice in his body screaming at him as he placed two fingers under her chin, tilting her head to look at him.

“You question your faith, don’t you?” he asked, his hand still placed on her skin. He could feel her swallow against his fingertips. 

“Yes,” she whispered, looking down again, her fingers fumbling with a loose thread on her skirt. She was ashamed and scared, he knew thefeeling, to question something that had been there a lifetime.

“Violet,” he said, cupping her cheek with his hand, forcing her to look at him. Her skin was warm and soft, like he had imagined, and he allowed himself to enjoy the contact before pulling his hand away. “Tell me what makes you question your faith.”

She looked at him with question and suspicion. “I don’t know,” she replied. “The prayers feel hollow to me, like I’m just repeating what I know but I don’t _feel_ it anymore. I used to read my verses every night before bed and now I can’t tell you when I last picked up the Bible. I just don’t know what to do, Father, I feel like Eve in the Garden, all these temptations are surrounding me, but I’m not scared, I _like_ it. I tried to talk to Sister Michelle about it but she –“

“- sent you to me to confess your sins,” he finished. She nodded, biting her lip. Did she know how she plagued him so? A simple act of nervousness causing such desire in him, such a want to hold the plump flesh of her lip between his own teeth, biting down as she moaned into his mouth. Did she have the same thoughts? He was no longer a good man, he was a wicked man, no better than Cain or Judas, to allow himself to fall so easily to the Devil’s temptations. 

He cleared his throat. “I would like you to join me for confession during lunch. I want you to rid yourself of these thoughts and feelings. _If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness._ Will you join me?”

“Yes, Father,” she replied, jumping down from the table and bending down to get her bag, slinging it haphazardly over her shoulder. 

“Tell Sister Mattel why you were late for her class,” he said, walking her to the classroom door. “I will see you at 12pm, yes?”

“Yes Father,” she repeated, offering him a warm smile as she left the room. He sighed as he shut the door, muttering The Lord’s prayer like a mantra as he walked back to his desk, his head resting in his hands.

      ————————————————————————————– 

Violet couldn’t concentrate in Sister Mattel’s lesson, the idea of confession with Father Brian filling her with both excitement and apprehension. She could still feel his touch, smooth fingertips on her skin, did he want to touch her more? Did _she_ want him to? The thought made her nervous, it was the last thread she had connecting her to God, to her faith. Her mother had never allowed so much a glance at boys, a slap around the ear if her gaze lingered too long. She’d been curious throughout her teenage years, the basic Catholic anatomy lesson not answering any of the questions she had about the opposite sex. She’d been thankful that her mother was not a technological person, the parent lock on her laptop very easily bypassed. 

It was like sensory overload to Violet, images and videos of all types of men, clothed and unclothed. She remembers the first pornographic image she had seen, a man with his hand wrapped around his penis. She had been startled, clutching at her crucifix tightly as she closed the window down. She had cried that night, praying to God for forgiveness for being so weak. Now look where she had ended up; masturbating to the thought of a man twice her age every night. Violet wasn’t sure what would happen with Father Brian, if anything at all but she wanted to at least try. She wasn’t an expert in seduction, though she was well read up on the subject, she had never been seduced or attempted to seduce anyone. But surely it couldn’t be that hard could it? She knew what sex was, and if the videos she had seen were anything to go by, it elicited a very vocal reaction from people.

She spent the rest of the lesson imagining scenarios of the confession, how honest should she be? She always considered honesty a virtue, she had sinned enough, and she didn’t want to add lying to the ever growing list. 

The bell rang, signalling the end of the class and Violet made her way to the church. She opened the door and walked up the altar, jumping slightly as the door shut behind her, echoing through the large room. Candles surrounded the place and she suddenly felt very warm as she bowed her head at the large wooden crucifix that stood in the middle of the altar. She blessed herself before making her way to the confessional. She pulled back the curtain, the fabric feeling heavy in her hand. She sat on the hard seat, the wood cold against the back of her thighs. The booth was dark, the only light seeping in at the floor between the concrete and the curtain. She heard a shuffle from the other side and she knew he was there.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession,” Violet said, placing her hands on her knees, stilling them. She toyed with the crucifix around her neck before moving to the hem of her skirt. She looked at the screen separating them, only the outline of his face visible.

“Speak, my child, there is no judgement here,” Father Brian said, as if to sense her hesitation. She exhaled shakily, rolling her eyes towards the heavens. _Here goes nothing._

“I have impure thoughts, Father. Dirty, impure thoughts that snake their way into my head when I am alone in my bed,” she replied. She heard him shuffle again, and she mimicked his action, her skin sticking slightly to the seat. 

“Impure thoughts are only that, _thoughts._ Is there a reason you feel the need to confess to these? Have you acted on them?” Father Brian asked.

“No Father, but sometimes I am want to. Sometimes the devil himself overpowers me and makes me touch myself in ways that are unholy. I am weak to these thoughts and temptations.”

“ _No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man._  These thoughts, are they sexual in nature? Do they invade your body and your mind?”

“Yes, they are sexual in nature. The devil has filled my body with wicked desires towards a man of God.”

His breath hitched quietly, so quiet that Violet would’ve sworn it to be her imagination, until it happened again. The air was stifled, the tension palpable at her admission. She didn’t need to name the man in question, they both knew. Violet’s throat felt dry as the silence grew between them.

“Father?” she whispered, the booth starting to feel like it was closing in on her. 

“Have you told anyone else about these desires?” he asked, his voice low and even.

“No Father, I would _never_ ,” she replied, slightly offended.

“Good. I think its best we end this confession and make our way to the altar and say a prayer,” he said, leaving the booth without another word. Violet sat there for a few seconds, replaying the event in her head. What just happened? She felt so foolish, he wasn’t going to throw away his life’s work for some stupid little girl. That’s all she was, a little _girl._ Tears of embarrassment burned at her eyes and she tried to blink them away, instead they fell down her cheeks. She wiped them away with the sleeve of her cardigan and stood up before walking towards the altar. Father Brian sat in the middle of the pew, his head bowed. Violet sat next to him, clasping her hands together and closing her eyes. 

_“Heavenly Father, I come boldly before your throne of grace and mercy to seek help in battling temptations. Lord, cleanse my mind, my body and my soul of lustful desires. I pray that you aid me in becoming righteous, pure and holy, and that I cast down every wicked, lustful thought in the name of Jesus Christ. I know that my flesh is weak Lord, but you are strong. I know in my weakness I will find my faith, my strength in You. Father I thank you for revealing the lustful spirit of temptation, I thank you for not allowing me to be overcome with lust in my eyes, and let my mind continue to focus on praising and worshipping You and You alone, for my body is your temple. I pray that you will deliver me from every temptation of lust, fornication and sexual immorality. Amen.”_

“Amen,” Violet repeated, opening her eyes to look at the priest next to her. He stood up, his eyes fixated on the crucifix in front of them, his jaw tense, and walked to the end of the pew before waiting in the aisle, his face expectant. She blinked in confusion, standing up with haste and tripping over the leg of the pew. She fell, landing into the warm, comforting arms of Father Brian. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. His arms were still around her, now at her waist, stroking the waistband of her skirt. Her heartbeat quickened as she looked at him, his eyes full of lust.

They moved closer to each other, their surroundings forgotten as feeling trumped rational thought. His head angled left, and she took his lead, angling hers to the right. Soft, slightly dry lips brushed against hers softly, hesitatingly. She moved her lips against his, her nose bumping against his as she attempted to deepen the kiss. It was weird, feeling someone else’s lips against hers, but Violet liked it. It wasn’t a passionate kiss but she tingled all over, that all too familiar warmth settling between her legs. She wound her arms around his neck, her fingers barely touching each other due to his height. It was a move that broke the spell and next thing she knew he had pulled away, leaving her cold. 

“I think its best you leave,” he said anger in his voice. His face was steely, the veins in his neck bulging as he tensed his jaw. Her eyes widened at his reaction and opened her mouth to speak, to say anything. “Get. Out.” 

She stiffened at the sudden raise of his voice, and ran out of the church, their brief moment of affection now forgotten about. 

      ————————————————————————————– 

He couldn’t believe that had just happened, couldn’t believe he had let it. One minute they were praying, the next he had her in his arms. He was angry at himself, at her, at God. He strode out of the church and to his office, picking up the first thing he could; a snow globe he had bought in Rome and lobbed it at the door, relishing as it smashed into pieces, his anger dissipating slightly. What was he thinking? Kissing a student? He had robbed her of her first kiss, what kind of man was he? He was disgusted at how _innocent_ she had tasted, bubble gum lip gloss, disgusted that he liked it. Why would God send him this challenge to overcome? How was he meant to? He sat down on his chair, sinking into the leather.

She was 17, almost half his age. He was meant to comfort and teach her, not take advantage of some silly little crush to fulfil his own needs. He should have stopped it before it happened, should have let her fall to the floor and then help her. He knew what he was doing, using her fall as an excuse to hold her, feel her body beneath his hands. He was a monster, a monster for doing it, and a monster for wanting more. That sick, twisted part of his brain wanted to kiss her again, kiss her deeply, teach her _everything._ She wanted it too, he knew that, could practically smell it off her, but he needed to be strong, needed to be what he wasn’t. 

He remembers the first time he met her, she was 16, so young, _too_ young. She was awkward, hiding behind her hair, her skirt falling past her knees. She was just a student to him then, like she should be now. The summer she returned she was sweet 17. No longer hiding, she had put herself on show, and how he had noticed her. How could he not? He was a man of God, but man nonetheless. It sickened him, bile rising in his throat after he had pleasured himself to an image of her. Never again, he had promised himself. Never again became not again, like it was a chore for him. The Lord was his master, but he had become a servant to her. 

He couldn’t do it anymore, he _wouldn’t_  to do it anymore. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Father Brian gives into temptation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kind comments, it's appreciated. I wasn't sure whether to post this chapter as the fic was posted on rpdrcringe where it got a lot of hate.
> 
> But, I love this fic. So here's the second, and last chapter. Beware, it is smutty.

It had been two weeks since the kiss. 14 long days. He’d been avoiding her and Violet had  
gotten sick of it; turning the other way when she walked towards him, ignoring her questions in class, it was stupid and _childish_. 

But it made her want him more. She had lain awake that night after he kissed her, moaning his name as she came. She wondered what he looked like in the throes of pleasure. Was he loud? Or would she not be able to hear a sound escape his lips? Would she ever get the chance to see? She studied herself in the small compact mirror, ignoring her classmates yet again. She grimaced at her face, picking at a small spot that had reared itself during the night. She did look young, puberty may have gave her some assets, but her baby face still remained. She always thought she was attractive, but maybe that wasn’t enough. She could go to the department store at lunch, and buy makeup instead of food, her mother would never know. She wanted to show him that she could be a woman, not a girl. Maybe then he would come to her. 

After the class Violet walked to the department store, a large cube building, devoid of any character apart from the glossy advertisements that hung in the window. She looked at the makeup stands, her fingers grazing the different pots and bottles, all colours of the rainbow. Her eyes stopped on a red lipstick and she twisted it out, smearing it on her wrist, the colour of rose petals colouring her skin. This could work. She made her way back to the school, applying the lipstick in the secrecy of the bathroom. She pinched at her cheeks for colour, a little tip she had learned from Scarlett O’Hara. She looked in the mirror and sighed. Still a schoolgirl playing in her mother’s makeup. Looking down at her uniform she hiked her skirt up past her hips, stopping it at her thigh. She then unbuttoned the crisp white shirt, opening it to show off her décolletage. She’d get in trouble but she was past caring. She had been a good girl all her life, it was time she shook things up a bit. The almost rebel had now started her revolution.

She glanced at the mirror again and smiled. She felt sexy and confident, the favourite parts of her body now on show. She ran a quick hand through her hair and sauntered out of the bathroom as the bell rang, smirking at the confused glances she received as she strode down the hallway, a sway in her hips. She sat in her usual seat front and centre, giddy as she wondered about Father Brian’s reaction. 

—–

It had been two weeks since he had kissed her. 14 long days in which he tried so desperately hard to not think about her. He had been avoiding her, though he didn’t think it was obvious. Silly things really, pretending to not see her raise her hand, walking the other way as she walked towards him. It was stupid, but he was being an adult about it, one of them needed to be. He walked into the class, forcing his face to be neutral as he glanced at her. He inwardly groaned, why was she making this so hard for him? He should have given her detention on the shortness of her skirt, showing off pale thighs that he could sink his teeth into. Her shirt was open, not enough to see anything bar a smooth expanse of skin, and a collarbone he wanted to pepper with kisses.

And then the lips, oh Heavenly Father, the lips. Red, plump lips, lips that he had kissed before and wanted to again and again. He wanted to smear the lipstick across her face as he took her from behind. He needed help, major psychiatric help. How could a school girl cause him to think such desires, desires he had trained himself to push down deep inside himself? 

“Miss Chachki, detention for such _inappropriate_  attire,” he drawled, suppressing a smirk as she gaped at him, his reaction not the one she expected.

The class seemed to drag on too long for him, he hated teaching. Why the headmistress always called on him to cover a class he didn’t know, he had no real experience in teaching, his calling was always to be a priest, and even that was in question. The students exited the classroom, except Violet who sat still in the chair. He shut the door, walking to his desk and pulling some classwork out.

“I have things to do, you may sit here in silence and pray that the Lord repents your sins,” he said, not bothering to look up as he sorted through the papers. 

“It isn’t a sin to wear lipstick,” she retorted. He sighed, seems she had a new attitudealongside her new look.

"True, but makeup is against the rules, and you know that,” he replied. 

“The devil made me do it?” she offered cheekily, smiling as he unconsciously quirked his lips at her. 

“Did he now? Did he also make you shorten your skirt and open your shirt?” he asked, placing his elbows on the table to look at her properly. He was skirting the line of inappropriateness, he knew it was wrong, knew it could lead to something if he  
kept going. Did it anyway. 

“Yes. The devil’s _inside me_ , Father. He’s inside everything I do,” she replied, leaning back into her chair. He froze as she opened her legs underneath the desk, a triangle of black fabric hiding his darkest desire. She arched an eyebrow at him, enticing him to do something, anything. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, a now hardened bulge in his pants. He stalks towards her like a predator, moving his hand up her thigh, his lips kissing her jaw as he pulls her panties aside, dipping a finger inside her. She arches up, gasping as he inserts another. " _Father_ ”,she moans.

“I suggest you tell him to close your legs,” he said, dismissing the images in his head.

She scowled.“My legs hurt, I’m just stretching them,” she answered, her face the epitome of faux innocence. He ignored her for the rest of the detention, forcing himself to study the papers in front of him and not look at the girl in front of him. He glanced at yhe clock before looking at Violet, her head in her hand, eyes closed, her legs no longer spread. He gives in to the pleasure of looking at her, rounded cheekbones, doe eyes and skin like porcelain. She was Snow White and Lolita rolled into one beautiful nymphet.

He gazed at her ruby red lips, it suited her, the colour making her look older, made him feel less guilty. He grabbed the book nearest to him and slammed it on the desk with a bang, startling her. She looked up at him, wide eyed and confused.

"Your detention is finished,” he said simply. She scowled at him once more, narrowing bleary eyes, before rolling her shoulders and exhaling. “I don’t believe you learned anything from this detention, you will serve another during lunch tomorrow.”

She nodded, not bothering to retort as she walked out of the class. He watched as she swayed her hips, the movement almost hypnotising, the way her skirt moved with every step. She glanced back at him, smiling as he was caught out. He smiled back and it was in that moment that he hated himself, for being so weak, so devoid of any semblance of self-control. The devil on his shoulder laughed at his inner turmoil, goading him with images of her. The angel wept for him, praying for his inevitable damnation. 

Violet sat at the computer in her room, her fingers still against the keyboard. She was confused at the events that transpired earlier. Her little stunt had obviously affected him, the look on his face was something she would treasure. His self-control was stronger than his attraction to her, and she wasn’t sure how to get around this without literally shoving her hands down his pants. She thought for a second before typing. 

**How to seduce an older man.**  

The results were varied, some smart, some ridiculous. She spent hours looking, link after link, making notes as she found ideas she liked. She had a week before he was relocated back to the church, yes, she could still see him there but she knew it would look suspicious if she started taking Confession every single day. She looked at the notebook, editing her plan as she saw fit, one stunt for every class and he would be begging her by the end of the week.

_ 1\. Note. _

This one was subtle, maybe too subtle for some but Violet was confident that it would work. Putting on her lipstick, she grabbed a piece of paper, pressing her lips against it. She signed the print, _V x_ , leaving it folded on his desk. She watched as he unfolded the note, his face paling slightly. She silently cheered as he refolded the note, placing it into his breast pocket without a glance at her.

_2\. Stretch_

She waited until he was stood next to her desk in the middle of teaching before raising her arms above her head, arching her back as she stretched. She moaned quietly, loud enough for him to hear, only him, as her muscles tightened and relaxed. She then lowered her arms, rolling her neck around, pushing her breasts together. He stuttered a little in the middle of the sentence, a flush forming beneath the white collar around his neck. 

_3\. Stockings_

Another lunch-time purchase, nude stockings adorned Violet’s legs, a black lace band lay around her upper thigh, hidden beneath her skirt. This was a bold move due to its obviousness and Violet was apprehensive, though she was committed to seeing it through. Placing an open bottle of water on her desk earlier, she nudged the leg with her foot as she walked past, spilling the water over the desk and chair. Grabbing paper towels, she leant over the front of her desk to dry the chair, her skirt riding up, showing just a peek of lace. She turned around and Father Brian’s eyes were dark and fixated on the middle of the floor.

_4\. Socks_

Discreetly pulling down one of her black knee high socks to her ankle, Violet waited until the class was empty before she pulled the next stunt. She stood up, grabbing her bag as usual and slinging it over her shoulder. Father Brian was still at his desk, a pen in his hand, concentration on his face. She sighed loudly, looking down at her sock. She placed her leg on the chair, glancing out the corner of her eye to see him watching her. She grabbed the sock, pulling it up over her calf slowly before letting it ping against her skin. She smoothed down her skirt, making sure to smooth her hands down over her ass before smiling at him and retreating from the class.

_5\. Lollipop_

Fishing a pink lollipop from her bag, Violet popped it in her mouth, her tongue sliding over the spherical sweet. She made sure to meet his eyes as she sucked on it, her cheeks hollowing. She could see his Adam’s apple bob slightly as he swallowed, his eyes fixated on her mouth. He carried on teaching, gesturing as he spoke, though his eyes never left her. She took the sweet out of her mouth, running her tongue over it, the sweet juice filling her mouth. If she was honest, Violet wasn’t 100% certain it would be particularly seductive, after all it was just a lollipop. But judging by Father Brian’s reaction, it was having more of an effect than she ever expected.

–

She had been playing with him all week. Testing his limits with stupid little stunts. Notes signed with a kiss, stockings she had no right to be wearing and _lollipops._  That was his most and least favourite. The way her tongue ran over it, the thin line of saliva that trailed from her tongue as she took it out her mouth. It had broken him. He was no longer a good man, and at this moment of time he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be. She had been pushing and pushing at him, breaking down the barriers of his self-control in such a way that it was almost twisted. She wanted him, her actions so overt that it needed no questioning.

Would it be so bad? To let her have him? Maybe that was what God had intended, to allow him this moment of weakness and grow from it, work on resisting temptation and become a better man. He could be great, a devoted servant if only she wasn’t clouding his mind, his judgement. Maybe she was his moment of clarity, a moment of weakness shrouded in strength he hadn’t found yet. He would be back in the church on Monday, Sister Ru no longer ill, his services no longer needed. He would be back where he belonged, where he needed to be. He wanted her, all of her, for nothing more than his own wicked, selfish desires. And he would have her, because it was God’s will.

“Miss Chachki, I believe you have some _repenting_ to do. Please come to the confessional after school,” he had whispered in her ear, her sweet perfume invading his nostrils. She had glanced at him in confusion. He merely nodded, answering the question on her lips. She smiled weakly, her face now nervous, though there was a glimmer of excitement. He watched her throughout the rest of class, tapping her pen against the desk, oblivious to the lesson. The bell rang and he watched as the students filed out of the class, chattering about weekend plans and impending homework. He watched her walk away slowly, making her way to the bathroom. He locked the classroom door behind him as he left, making his way to the church. 

–

Violet swallowed as she looked in the mirror. She was going to have sex for the first time. Nerves settled heavily in her stomach and her hand shook as she reapplied her lipstick. She spritzed herself with more perfume and smoothed down the non-existent creases in her uniform. Her throat was dry as she swallowed, all the teases, the nights lying in bed, they had amounted to something. And she was scared. She had read many accounts of girls losing their virginity, and they had all highlighted the importance of lubricant and protection.

Violet thanked herself that she always came prepared and had been carrying around supplies since the beginning of the week. She wondered what he looked like, was he big? Was his body hard or soft underneath the plain shirt and trousers he wore? She wondered about her own performance, nerves setting in again as she considered that fact she might not be any good. She sighed, looking at herself one last time, she would no longer be a virgin after this. Would she look any different? The lights in the school were still turned on, though the hallways are empty and quiet. She stood outside the church, her heartbeat quickening, the doors suddenly seeming so large and imposing. She walked in, her heels clacking against the hard floor, and made her way to the confessional booth, placing her bag outside it.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last confession,” she said, sitting down, her voice shaking slightly. 

“What plagues you?” he asked. She opened her mouth, before closing it. She didn’t know. She wasn’t sure what this was, some strange new type of foreplay? Have her repent for her sins before they sinned together?

"I’m not really sure. I mentioned to you about my lustful thoughts towards a man of God, I have been…teasing him, somewhat. Being deliberately seductive towards him,” she replied.

“And why have you done that?” 

“Because I want him. And I know he is attracted to me too, but he is a good man, with self-control. I wanted to feel powerful, to tempt him so much he would let go.”

“Do you think it worked?”

“I don’t know. Did it work?” she asked. Her confidence was growing by the second, the sound of his voice soothing any nerves she might have had. The booth was silent for a second, the sound of his breathing the only sign that he was still there.

“…yes,” he said quietly, his voice full of shame. She looked down at her hands. She had never considered the implication of this for him, her own selfishness clouding her  
judgement. 

“I’m sorry,” she replied.

"Why do you apologise?” he asked.

"Because I wa sselfish. You are a good man, Father. My own selfishness has caused me to ignore how my actions may have affected you. I broke down your self-control by sheer force, because it was fun to me, a game. But this is your _life_ , I should have considered your feelings, how my actions would affect you, and I didn’t. Because I wanted you,” she said.

“Do you still want me?” he asked, ignoring her rambling. 

“Yes.” 

“Then we are both selfish. I am ignoring every moral bone in my body, ignoring my calling, for my own desire,” he replied. She shuffled, warmth beginning to pool between her legs at his admission. He desired her, wanted her like she wanted him.

“I’m a virgin,”she said, the words escaping her lips before she had a chance to think. 

A split second passed. “I assumed so,” he replied. “I will try my best to make this as  
pleasurable for you as possible.”

“I trust you,”she said honestly.<

He sighed. “You shouldn’t. I don’t even trust myself at this moment.”

Violet looked at him through the booth, the outline of his jaw, his ears. He was beautiful, inside and out, and though he didn’t trust himself, she trusted him unequivocally.

“Shouldn’t I be confessing to you?” she asked, giggling. He laughed, a deep throaty laugh that made her tingle. 

“Yes, you should. In our last confession, you mentioned sexual thoughts. Would you like to confess to me what these thoughts entailed?”

She exhaled a shaky laugh. “They were quite explicit, wouldn’t it be inappropriate?”

“I think we’ve passed the line of inappropriate, don’t you?” he drawled, his voice low. 

“They were of you. I would think about you while I pleasured myself, wondered what your face looked like as you came. I thought about you fucking me on the altar, my mouth on your cock in this booth, while someone gave confession,” she admitted, her neck beginning to feel flush, a wetness pooling between her legs.

“I had the same thoughts,” he said. “After your little stunt in detention, I wanted nothing more than to taste you, have you underneath me as the crucifix of our Lord and Saviour watched our sins. Isn’t that depraved? But I wanted you, Violet, so very much.”

“But I’m nothing special,” she replied meekly, her faux confidence suddenly crumbling. He could have any girl in the school if he wanted. He could have Pearl, with her curves and pouty lips, or Raja, with her chocolate skin and long legs. Why would he want her?

“Yes, you are. You are very special, Violet. You could have me begging for mercy, twice, if you so wished. I want you to do something for me,” he said.

"Yes?” she asked, confused.

“Touch yourself. Let me hear how special you are.”

Her eyes widened at his request and the nerves in her stomach began twisting again. She swallowed, her hand moving down to her skirt. She pushed her panties aside, spreading her legs as she dipped a finger, feeling her own wetness. Her finger moved in slow circles around her clit, mewling softly, nerves forgotten. She pressed down harder, her arousal growing as her finger worked quicker. She shifted her hips up towards her own touch, moans falling from her lips. She was close to falling in as the waves built, her orgasm approaching. The waves crashed over as she came, warmth spreading through her. There was silence as she caught her breath, a sheen of sweat covering her cheeks and forehead.

“Father?” she whispered.

“Come here,” he said, his voice heavy and laced with arousal. 

–

The hardness in his pants was almost painful as he listened to her come. She was truly special. From perfect lips, made to suck nothing else but his breath, to her legs, long and lean. She pulled back the curtain to his booth, and he offered her a hand, pulling her to him as she accepted. He tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear, allowing him to see her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes still a little glassy. He groaned as she straddled him, her hands moving to his face, stroking his jaw with new confidence. She had never been an ugly duckling, she had been a swan, but now she was a peacock, bright and bold. He could feel her rub against his bulge, too many layers of fabric separating him from what he wanted. 

But there would be time for that, his main goal was to make her feel good. He remembers his first time, sloppy and erratic, over too quickly. He would give her more than that, would give her everything if she asked. He met her lips with his own, kissing her deeply, his hand winding its way through her hair, gripping her closely to him. Their lips moved against each other, her hands exploring his body; gripping at his chest, his shoulders. His hands moved underneath her shirt, stroking the smooth skin of her hips. He licked her bottom lip, moving his tongue into her mouth. He taught her without words, their tongues moving together, her hips moving against his confined cock with an urgency. He pulled away, tapping her thigh for her to move off him and walked  
to the church altar.

"Just a minute”, she said, holding up a finger. He watched in amusement as she went to her schoolbag, pulling out a small bottle and a box. “I came prepared.”

He chuckled, “a box?” he asked.

She looked embarrassed. “I didn’t know how many we would need,” she replied sheepishly. He cradled her face in his hands, taking the box and the bottle off her and placing them on the floor.

He gestured for her to come closer. “Let’s get these clothes off, okay?” he asked. She nodded, biting her lip in apprehension. He looked at her face as he unbuttoned her cardigan, his eyes never leaving her, telling her without words how beautiful she was. She stiffened a little as he moved to her shirt and he unbuttoned it slowly, moving to take it off her shoulders. He asked her with his eyes for permission, and she nodded. Discarding the shirt to the floor, he took her in, his fingers grazing over a flat stomach, ribs that were barely visible underneath milky skin. Her body relaxed as his lips touched her skin, peppering kisses over her collarbone. 

His hand moved up her back. “This okay?” he asked, his fingers at the clasp of her black bra.

“Yes,” she whispered. He undid the clasp, moving the straps off her shoulders and dropping it to the floor. She shivered at the cold air suddenly hitting her and he wrapped her up in his arms. He moved his hand to her breast, and she moaned softly as he massaged the flesh, his lips on her jaw. He felt her hands move to him, and he stood back, allowing her to undo his buttons. She moved to his neck, fingering the collar before looking at him for help.

“At the back,” he explained. She nodded in understanding, moving to the back of his neck, her fingers fumbling as she unclasped it, holding it for a moment before placing it carefully on the floor. For now, he was no longer a priest, no longer a man of God, but just a man. She moved the shirt off his shoulders, and he shimmied out of it. Her hands moved over his body, taking him in with a look of awe. Her fingers tweaked at his nipples, laughing as he yelped. 

“You’ll pay forthat,” he said, pulling her close to him. He hiked up her skirt, pressing his hand between her legs, the heat radiating from her. She moaned as he pressed harder, her hips rubbing against him. He removed his hand, smirking at her look of frustration before undoing her skirt. He licked his lips as he looked at her, his fingers moving up her thigh and stopping at the red, lacy underwear she wore.

“For me?” She nodded, blushing. He fingered at the fabric, looking at her as he pulled them down, moving down her body with them, and stopping at her feet as she stepped out of them. He looked up at her, his little nymphet, in nothing but high heels and knee socks. He kissed up her thighs, wrapping her leg around his shoulders as he knelt between her. He could smell the arousal from her, and he swiped at her with his tongue. She gasped loudly, clutching at his shoulder. He opened her with his fingers, and his tongue licked at her again. He moved to her clit, his tongue flicking at the nub. She was wet, the sweet taste of her innocence on his tongue and lips. He knelt at the altar between her thighs, in that moment she was his God, and he was her devoted servant, in his rightful place. He sucked the nub into his mouth, her nails digging into his shoulder, her other hand in his hair, pulling at it. His tongue moved quicker on her, circling her clit with haste. He placed his arm underneath her legs, catching her as she came with a cry, her legs buckling. 

–

She lay there on the altar, the floor freezing on her skin. She caught her breath, watching as Father Brian stood up, towering over her. She had never felt like that before, the sensation of someone else bringing her to orgasm very different from doing it herself. It was more intense, every nerve feeling like static, her skin buzzing. He went to unbuckle his belt and she sat up, placing her hand over his to stop him. 

“Let me,” she said, unbuckling the belt.

Her hands shook slightly as she fumbled with the buttons on his trousers. He kicked his shoes off, pulling his trousers down and she swallowed at the sight of him. Thick muscular thighs, taut tanned calves, his uniform did him no favours. A smattering of hair trailed from his belly button and disappeared underneath the fabric of his plain grey boxers. She could see the outline of him through the fabric, his cock straining against its fabric confines. She reached out, her hand on the waistband, and pulled them down. His arousal was evident as his cock sprang out, hitting his belly button. 

“Can I -?” she asked, gesturing to his cock. He nodded, and she moved more forward towards him, her face in line with him. She wasn’t sure what to do, she’d seen videos of blowjobs, but her mind had went blank. Her hand wrapped around him, and she moved it slowly, testing the waters. He gasped and she pulled her hand back quickly. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, it was nice, being touched by someone other than myself,” he replied. She nodded, moving her hand back, her fingers exploring the hard length. She stuck out her tongue, giving it a quick lick. It didn’t taste bad, just like skin and a hint of sweat. She moved her tongue to it again, licking from the base to the head. Father Brian groaned softly, his hand stroking her hair. She opened her mouth, moving to the head and sucking on it gently. The head tasted different, saltier, but not unpleasant. She flicked her tongue against him, like he had done to her, and sucked at him, remembering to be careful of her teeth. She moved her mouth slowly down his length, gagging as she went too far down, his cock hitting the back of her throat. She spluttered and coughed before licking at him again, getting into a rhythm. She bobbed her head, her hands on his hips, controlling how deep he could go.

He moaned quietly before stopping her. “I won’t last long if you continue.” She pouted a little before shrugging. He sat down next to her, kissing her again, his hand on her breast, his fingers tweaking at her nipple. She yelped in surprise and he chuckled.“Told you you would pay for it,” he said smirking.

She was nervous again as he reached over and grabbed the box, taking out a foil packet. She watched as he opened it, rolling it slowly over his cock. He grabbed the lube, squirting some into his hand and spreading it over his cock. He cupped her chin with his hands, kissing her softly.

“If at any point you want to stop, you tell me okay?" She nodded, butterflies in her stomach. He handed her the lube, though she was wet already, she applied it liberally. “I think it would be better if you were on top, then you can control things,” he said. She nodded again, straddling him, placing herself over her cock. She lowered herself down slowly onto him, stiffening at the sharp pain. She cried out as she continued to lower herself, tears springing to her eyes as the pain grew more intense. He rubbed at her back, his fingers moving in slow circles. “Take your time.”

She stopped as she felt his thighs underneath her, the pain beginning to dissipate as she stilled her movements, getting used to the feeling of being so stretched and full. Father Brian moved his hands to her hips, his mouth on her nipple. She shivered as he took it into his mouth, his tongue moving around the soft nub. The pain had disappeared and she moved her hips a little, causing him to gasp softly. It was nothing like she had expected, nothing like she had watched, but it was nice. It still felt uncomfortable to her, and maybe that was normal, she didn’t know, but it didn’t hurt, and she liked feeling him inside her. She moved her hips again, moaning as her clit brushed against his pelvis. She moved against him, rocking into him then pulling back, no longer feeling uncomfortable.

–

He clutched at her as she rocked against him, so tight and warm around his cock. He forced himself not to thrust, to let her go at her own pace. Her movements quickened, her hips moving against his, her lips open in a silent moan. She raised herself up off him slightly before lowering again, the contracting of her muscles so tight around him. He thrust up unconsciously, causing her to moan out loud. He thrust up again, meeting her as she lowered herself back onto him. She moaned again, throwing her head back, her hair tickling his thighs. He wrapped his arm around her back, pulling her closer to him as they moved together. She bit into his shoulder, her heels digging into the soft skin at the bottom of his back. Her socks rubbed against his skin as she moved with vigour, and he could feel himself getting close. 

He thrust into her, her nails moving to his back, scratching as he moved harder into her. The church echoed with their moans, the crucifix standing proud above them, watching as they desecrated the holy place and made it theirs. He came with a moan, his lips pressed against her shoulder. He shuddered at the aftershocks of his orgasm, his legs beginning to cramp under the weight of her. She leant her head against his shoulder, his skin clammy and sticky with sweat. He moved to stroke her cheek and she looked at him, her hair sticking to her forehead, lipstick smeared over her chin. He kissed her then, tenderly.

“Are you alright?” he asked as she raised herself off him, cringing.

“I’m good, alittle sore. But good,” she replied, smiling. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She gestured at his shoulder, teeth marks evident in the red, raised flesh. He shrugged her off, watching as she stepped into her panties, pulling them up onto her hips. He pulled the condom off, placing it in the foil wrapper that was lying next to him. He stood up, his knees sore and pulled his boxers and trousers back on, buckling his belt. He buttoned his shirt back up at the same time she did and they shared a nervous smile at the sudden air of expectation that surrounded them. He felt torn, torn between the amazingness of the previous moments and his calling. Could he do this regularly and still be a good man? He wasn’t sure. 

“I should go,” she said. “This was nice.” They laughed at the awkwardness, and he scolded himself, he was a grown man, not a teenager. He walked her to the church door,

lube and condoms in her bag, and kissed her before she walked off. She flashed a smile at him, lipstick still on her chin and he gestured at her. She laughed, wiping it off with her cardigan and walked off, away from him. He walked to his office and sat down, throwing the used condom in the trash and tying the bag up. He opened his drawer and grabbed the piece of paper, unfolding it and smiling fondly. He stroked the lipstick mark with his finger, the feel of her lips on his flashing back into his memory. He could do it regularly.

–

They would be hidden from plain view, in the privacy of the confession booth he would ask her questions on her skin and seek answers in the marks he had left before. She would moan prayers into his mouth, recite verses into his skin. It was a sin, but he was a good man, a devoted man. To both God and her. He might be damned, but she would be beside him to fan the flames.

The priest and his nymphet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do we think? Let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think, there is another chapter to this.


End file.
